Awakening
by Dreamwraith
Summary: After his revival, an embittered Cargo swears to become strong enough to defeat any and all comers. But when Dende is summoned to Earth for the Cell Games, he is forced to face a brutal reality: sometimes physical strength is not enough...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the characters contained within. I am merely playing around in Akira Toriyama's world for a while.

This story began for me in late 2003, while watching the Namek saga again. I saw two little Namek boys clinging to a village elder. One was Dende, who became quite important later on in the series. The other was his brother, Cargo, who is never heard from again. I made the decision to write him into the timeline, but my hard drive died and the story was put on hold.

Until now.

So let me present to you an AU story, of what might have happened had Cargo been around to change things…

* * *

"**Awakening"  
****By: Dreamwraith**

**Chapter One**

"I wish back to life all those slain by Frieza and his men!"

…

…

…

Darkness.

Slowly one eye opens, and then the other. Dark eyes take in the ruined landscape, and their owner gasps. The sky is dark, though the faint outline of triplet suns is visible through the threatening black clouds. He pushes himself to his feet and stands straight. It is difficult to do. The ground is intermittently shaking, and the sky is frequently pierced by lightning. In the distance hot jets of magma spray into the sky. Columned rocks crumble. "What…what's happening?" he asks the nearest villager.

"The planet is shaking apart! We've been resurrected just to die again when our home explodes!"

Muuri turned his back on the other Namek. If others heard him panicking, they would begin to as well. A pity the Elder did not teach his younger children to be more stoic, more steadfast. They would do well to calm down. Panicking never helped anyone. He immediately began a head count of his villagers by tracking down each _ki_ in turn and noting their location. At the edge of his awareness he could hear his people's soft exclamations of fear and wonder both, at having been returned to life.

_It almost seems like the storms that nearly destroyed our race have returned to finish off its survivors,_ the Namek mused darkly, interrupting his own activity. Then he frowned up at the sky, squinting to see the vortexes forming in the clouds. _Wait…those are no ordinary storm clouds, most of them. There is – ah! The Dragon must have been summoned!_ His attention was drawn elsewhere by the sound of someone trying to smother a sob.

The village elder caught a flash of yellow-and-red as a small figure flung itself at his leg. He staggered back, caught off-balance, and dropped his chin to his chest to squint at the child that had attached himself to his clothes. "Cargo!" he exclaimed, causing the boy to raise his head and lock his tear-filled eyes onto the clear gaze of his elder.

"I can't find my brother, Muuri!" the young Namek whimpered. "Dende's not here! I can't find him!"

"He must be alive, Cargo," Muuri said softly, detaching the boy from his robes. "We have been resurrected by Porunga. Our village is here. Everyone is here. He either…" and here the older Namek swallowed hard, "…died here, or ran far enough away from the village, before he was caught."

"But I can't sense him near the village!"

"Have you tried farther out?"

The child alternated between clenching and unclenching his fists. "I can't reach that far! I tried, Muuri! I tried! But I still can't feel him!" Tears freely ran down the boy's cheeks with his words, and he spoke in anger. Anger, and…desperation?

And as his emotion held sway over his thoughts, the air around him seemed to ripple.

Muuri blinked. The boy had received no _ki_ training, and yet he was beginning to create an aura about himself. One not yet visible, save to one who knew what tattered beginnings to look for. How curious. "Sprout, be strong," he gently told the boy, scooping him up into his arms. "You will feel him soon enough. He cannot hide himself from us forever."

It was a horrible explanation, but the boy needed _some_ kind of comfort. Muuri bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from rambling and betraying his own fears. Instead of speaking he tried reaching out to the missing child himself, searching nearby for Dende's small _ki_ in case Cargo's senses had somehow passed over him. He did not think that event likely, but he wanted to believe in a less morbid reason for the lapse.

Right now, he wanted so badly to contact Nail and ask him to speak with Cargo, for the boy showed obvious potential. At such a tender age, it was almost unheard of to show a _ki_ aura. Nail himself was the last youngster to do such a thing, and he would be of great help to the child he held now… if they all somehow survived the death of the planet, that is. But this was not the time to think of such things. A catastrophe was nigh, and the child in his arms needed comfort.

To all appearances satisfied with the elder's flimsy explanation, Cargo fell silent, hiccupping through his sobs and burying his face in his tiny arms. Muuri hugged the child close and wondered why the sky was still dark, even though the Dragon's summoning must surely be finished by now. Perhaps the planet _was_ about to be destroyed. Perhaps that Frieza monster was preparing, even now, to launch his ship from the planet and laugh his fool head off when it exploded. He sighed.

Another quake shook the earth, and Muuri fell to his knees, steadying himself with one hand while clutching the boy to himself with the other. If this went on much longer, they'd –

He blinked. Did those two warriors just disappear?

Soft cries of bewilderment came from the other villagers as they, too, began to vanish in ones and twos. First they shimmered, and then they blurred out of sight, like a mistake made on an artist's canvas. _Is that the wish?_ Muuri wondered, cradling the boy to his chest. _Are we being sent to another…_

Two things happened at once.

Cargo squeaked with surprise.

Then Muuri's vision distorted. All the colors of the land swirled and blended before his eyes, dark clouds and green waters together. _This is unnatural!_ his mind roared to him. _This is no Dragon-wish, but one of Frieza's tricks!_ A scream welled up in the back of his throat as vertigo pressed down heavily upon him, and only for the sake of the child did he bite it back. _I cannot take much more of this!_ He clutched the boy all the more tightly to him.

And then it was over, as abruptly as it had begun.

The village elder was surprised to find himself standing upon firm ground once more, with a sky bright enough to hurt his eyes when he dared glance up. There was only one sun here. "…planet?" His voice continued the thought he had started on Namek. _And why not?_ he wondered. _Surely we will be safe from Frieza here, for a time. Wherever 'here' is._

While he was contemplating the clearing he stood in and listening to the other Nameks tentatively exploring their new surroundings, Cargo perked up in his arms. Then his head jerked to one side. "_Dende!_" he suddenly screamed, and he twisted around violently, causing Muuri to release him. The boy landed on his feet and took off running. The elder watched him sprint toward a group of trees, where a flurry of motion had just erupted. He frowned and reached out to the area with his _ki_. _A downed Namek,_ it told him,_ and a powerful healer. He is strong to be able to bring someone back from the brink of death._ The healer's _ki_ felt familiar, too, and strong in its own right.

His eyes widened as he put the pieces together. _Is that Dende? Is that healer our little Dende?_

Apparently so, he decided when he heard Cargo's shriek of joy. He began to make his own way over to the small group. Whatever was occurring was sure to be a joyous occasion, and he knew that their people could use all the happiness they could find.

* * *

"Dende!"

The young healer heard a familiar voice shriek his name, but he could not allow himself to be distracted. Nail – er, Piccolo – was nearly healed. He had taken a wound to his shoulder, through his chest. It had come close to piercing his heart. The wound was serious, especially given how much blood had been leaking from it when he first felt the waning _ki_ of a fellow Namek. But now he was in no danger, and all that remained were finishing touches, to be certain no traces of the injury remained.

No sooner than he had lifted his hands away from Piccolo's shoulder, someone hit him hard in the side, and he was sent sprawling on the grass. His attacker clung tightly to him. He struggled violently to free himself before he heard weeping, and he suddenly realized who it was that clung to him.

"Cargo," he said softly. "Cargo, it's going to be all right." His brother's response was a sob and a tightened grip. Dende stroked the back of his brother's head and held the other boy to him.

"Dende, I tried! I tried to find you, but I couldn't! Where were you?" Cargo cried, fisting his hands in Dende's tunic. "And then I tried to find Nail, but the only one I could sense was Muuri!"

"I didn't die near the village," Dende replied. "Two humans saved me there. I died later, at the hands of Frieza himself."

Piccolo chose that moment (or perhaps it was a coincidence) to sit up, and Cargo's jaw dropped. His tears dried up immediately. "Nail!" he squeaked. "Brother! Where were you?"

Piccolo ignored him, instead running his fingers over the discolored skin on his shoulder. The healed wound had left behind a scar, barely noticeable but still present. He frowned slightly. He would have a permanent reminder of his foolishness now.

"Nail?" Cargo asked cautiously, sitting up. His gaze was curious. Dende sat up as well and then knelt back. He saw the scar Piccolo was examining and frowned. He should have had enough energy to heal him completely. Perhaps he had been mistaken.

Piccolo glanced down at Dende and nodded his thanks, then turned his attention to Cargo. He regarded him coolly. "Nail is gone," he told the boy.

Cargo smiled nervously. "N-Nail, why is your voice so low?"

"I am not Nail. Your brother can explain it to you." With those words, the older Namek stood up and swiftly walked away. Dende watched him approach Gohan, the half-Saiyan boy who had saved him from Frieza. Gohan's face lit up as the Namek stopped before him and reached out a hand to tousle his hair.

"What is he talking about?" Cargo asked.

Dende tore his gaze away from the small reunion and wished Piccolo had not demanded this task of him. He sighed. "Nail isn't with us anymore." He winced at his brother's sharp cry of denial and continued. "Nail sacrificed himself to save the Elder. He was dying. That man, there," and he nodded toward Piccolo, "fused with him to fight Frieza."

"No!" Cargo gasped.

"He's gone," Dende replied quietly.

To his surprise, his brother did not cry out again. Instead, he balled his hands into fists and dug them into his thighs. Tears dripped down his cheeks and dampened his sleeves, but he made no sound.

"Cargo?" he asked.

The young boy began to tremble.

In his concern, Dende reached out a hand to his brother, but Cargo slapped it away. Dende reeled back in surprise. "Don't touch me," the boy hissed. "Don't touch me."

"But – "

"Leave me be!"

Dende frowned. Had his brother lost his mind? Where was the sweet little brother that helped him pick Adjissa for their village elder? He sat in silence and watched Cargo's body shake. It seemed the boy had aged centuries in a moment. A rapid mental maturation (or degradation) was the only explanation for Cargo's sudden change in attitude. His heart ached for him, his healer's senses wanting to ease his pain but not knowing what to do. He could not heal wounds of the heart. He felt so helpless…

Around them, their brothers congregated and exchanged stories of their experiences. The clearing soon filled with laughter and exclamations of surprise. The two youngsters were left in relative peace. Neither noticed that they had attracted three observers. Muuri, the closest, was in a position to hear their exchange. He did not like what he was hearing. Gohan, though further away, could see how the younger Namek was reacting to whatever news Dende had given him, and he was worried about the child. Piccolo was able to not only hear the conversation, but he could also divine the thoughts Cargo was having. He would never admit to it, but the boy who had irritated him moments before was beginning to intrigue him.

Cargo spoke again after a few minutes. "You are right, Dende," he said quietly. "Nail is gone. Our greatest warrior is dead. There will be no one left to protect us."

"But Piccolo – "

Cargo laughed. "Piccolo who? Only another Namek could understand us, and there are none more powerful than Nail. And he is gone. Someone has to take his place. Someone has to avenge him."

Dende's eyebrows shot straight up. "You?" he exclaimed incredulously. When Cargo did not move, he exhaled slowly. "Cargo, you have no training."

"I can fix that. There are other warriors that can teach me the basics."

"You're too young!"

"So are you," Cargo retorted, "but that did not stop you from becoming a healer!"

Dende opened his mouth to argue against him, but he stopped himself. Cargo had a point. He would not have had the ability to heal without the Elder's awakening of his latent _ki_. The Elder had known of his potential and had thought the situation dire enough to risk awakening a powerful ability in a child. He had handled himself well. Might Cargo be able to do the same?

Then he mentally shook himself. What was he thinking? Cargo was too immature to handle such responsibility. Listen to him! He was going on about revenge! That was not the way of their people. Nameks were a peaceful race, not one bent on destroying any species that came across them, good or evil! What had happened to his little brother?

"Trust me, Dende. I will become strong enough to protect us all. Nothing like this will ever happen again."

Dende let Cargo's words slide past him. He was preoccupied with the notion of smacking his brother upside the head with a large stick, to clear his mind of such wild thoughts. In doing so, he missed the bitter smile that graced Cargo's young face, missed the glance from eyes that had aged years in a day. He missed the words Cargo mouthed silently.

_Nail, I will make you proud._

* * *

Before I get blasted for the rapid shift from anxious child to determined youth, I would like to point out that in cases of emotional trauma, it is entirely possible for someone's attitude to change rapidly in a matter of moments. Go look up the five stages of grief if you doubt this.

I've got a lot going on in my life right now, so updates will probably be slow. I will finish this story, though. My muse would never forgive me if I didn't.

Thanks for reading.

~Dreamwraith


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the characters contained within, save a few minor OCs. I am merely playing around in Akira Toriyama's world for a while.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Cargo felt foolish for not taking the time to check the _ki_ of the Namek he had mistakenly called Nail. Piccolo had glared at him ever since, as if it were something an infant should have known to do. Though it hurt his pride to admit it, the older Namek was right. He would not have made a spectacle of himself if he had thought before opening his mouth. He promised himself he would not make the same mistake twice.

Cargo was currently watching some of the other children play a game of poker with the human called Krillin. They giggled every time he groaned or made a face at them. Dende was part of that group, and he seemed to be enjoying himself greatly. Cargo frowned. Could his brothers not see that every second wasted in frivolity was less time spent in preparation for the next war?

He balled his hands into fists and gritted his teeth. He had overheard Muuri speaking to one of the other village elders – Lumaca – about how the Dragonballs would only attract trouble now that their presence was known. Lumaca had thought carefully before replying that unless Frieza had relayed the information to someone else, he was the last remaining invader with that knowledge. And now, Frieza was dead, by the hand of Goku. Muuri had argued that they needed to find some obscure planet somewhere far away, somewhere no other greedy beings could find them. As the new Great Elder, Muuri's decisions were absolute and final.

Cargo agreed with Muuri, to a point. _Let them come,_ he seethed. _By the time they find us, I will be as strong as Nail. I could kill them all._

The thought of killing someone made him stop cold. He was surprised that he could think such a thing. Defeating them, yes. Protecting his people, yes. But killing? Murder, in cold blood? Murder was a strange thing to the Namekian people, save that Piccolo fighter. Would he ever be able to do such a thing?

As angry as he was, he thought he could. The answer shocked him when he realized it was true.

As he thought this, Dende swiveled in his seat and stared straight at him, mouth dropped open in astonishment. _Cargo!_ came his nervous exclamation, the words falling directly into his mind. _You can't mean that! Surely you don't!_

_I do, Dende. I will do whatever is necessary to make sure this kind of war never comes to us again._

Dende caught the underlying anger in his brother's ignored the concerned look Krillin was giving him and instead focused on Cargo. _Please, little brother,_ he begged,_ don't do anything rash. You are still young. You're hurt and angry right now. Many of our brothers are gone. Our Elder is gone. Please, think rationally. I don't want you to do something in anger that you will regret later!_

Cargo snapped at his brother. _I will not regret my decision! I will become strong, and I will fight!_

Dende wisely let it drop. It would not matter for much longer, anyway. The dragon would be sending them to a new planet soon. No outsiders would be able to influence Cargo there. Hopefully, he would grow out of this strange, aggressive phase.

A few days later, the dragon wish was spoken and granted, and with a sensation that felt just as wild the second time as it did the first, the Namekian people were transported to a new world, one that could hopefully be likened to the original.

* * *

Dende could not quite understand his brother's new way of thinking. With the exception of Piccolo, Nameks were a peaceful race. Even Nail, their greatest warrior, had been nonviolent. Cargo, on the other hand, seemed to be about as calm as a tempest these days. He had been a playful and sweet child, never one to argue over whose turn it was to help pull weeds from around the Adjissa flowers. He was a bit brooding, but then again, so had Nail been. Cargo practically idolized the older Namek. When he came to visit, Cargo would follow him around the village, mimicking his mannerisms and even the inflection of his voice.

Then, of course, came this drastic change. They had been on this new planet for a week already, and the only thing Cargo had done was pester the village warriors about teaching him how to manipulate his _ki_. They had all been incredulous. It was unheard of, a child begging for lessons that would only be taught to a young adult – and not just any youth, but one close to maturity! – and with so much to be done to transform this strange place into a home… Some of the younger adults had begun to whisper among themselves that Cargo had lost his mind on Earth.

For his part, Dende did not believe it. He realized that Cargo's death and revival must have taken such a toll on him that his mind had matured past his physical years. Their people had not had such a horrific situation to deal with since the Cataclysm hundreds of years ago, and so his brother's situation was rare. However, it had been seen before. Krillin had told him something like this must have happened to Picccolo, too – the older Namek was only three Earth years, nine Namekian years, older than Gohan, who was of an age with Dende himself.

According to the human, Piccolo had hatched from his egg not long after his father had birthed him, at the time of his death. He had then spent the next few years of his life training to fight and nurturing his hatred of Goku, the Saiyan man responsible for the death of Frieza. During that time, he had nearly attained his adult height and his full mental development… when he still should have been a young sprout.

The same adults that whispered about Cargo also discussed the strange Namek on Earth, the one who had fused with Nail. Mostly, they pitied him for his lack of a childhood and for the lack of peace in his life. One or two of them thought he was a throwback to the Nameks of earlier times, several of whom had gone mad with power. The rest argued them down, saying that he knew his heritage – he was of the line of Katat, a member of the Dragon clan, as were they. Though they were not brothers, they were cousins. Well, whatever the case was, they seemed concerned that Cargo was going to follow in their strange relative's footsteps, a fear that was not unfounded.

Dende watched as Cargo made frantic gestures with his hands to Muuri. He had been pleading for warrior training for most of the week. One would have thought that Muuri, being their people's new Great Elder, would have had no time for Cargo, but the man had been receptive to the child's presence, if not his interests. Cargo gestured again, and Muuri squared his shoulders. Then Cargo's slumped. He bowed low to the ground and backed away from his elder.

The young healer decided it was about time to have another chat with his brother.

* * *

He caught up with him near a storage hut, which contained the tools used to cultivate Adjissa. It had not been difficult. Cargo was practically vibrating with pent-up energy. When Dende came around the side of the rounded hut, the younger boy was kneeling back on his heels and pressing his forehead against the stone wall.

"Cargo, are you all right?" he called softly.

The younger boy swiped one sleeve across his eyes and met his brother's concerned gaze. His eyes were puffy. "I'm fine," he replied quickly.

Dende called his bluff. "I'm a healer, Cargo, and your brother. I know you're lying." He moved closer to the other boy, with his hands both held out from his sides in plain sight. "I can feel your pain."

"I am not in pain."

"You are. Maybe not physically, but I can feel it still." Dende knelt down next to Cargo, intending to wrap his arms around his brother. "Let me help you." He touched his hands to the boy's arm, extended his arms to encircle him…

…and Cargo shoved him off.

Dende fell flat on his back and lay sprawled on the ground. His eyes were wide with surprise at the unexpected violence as he stared at his brother. Cargo's eyes were as wide as his for a moment, then he glared at him. "You can't help me," he declared. "You're only a healer. You don't know anything about fighting."

Cargo rested his forehead against the hut again. "You don't know," he repeated softly. "Nobody knows. We don't have any real warriors left to teach us."

The boy suddenly screamed angrily and slammed his fists into the stone. "Nobody! We have nobody!" Dende watched in horror, frozen in place, as Cargo beat his fists into the wall, until he began leaving bloody prints. Then he jumped to his feet and tried to restrain him. He sustained several scratches from the other boy's talons, but he was able to keep him from further injury.

Cargo struggled against him for a moment, but Dende was still the older and larger of the two, and Cargo tired more quickly. He eventually sagged against his older brother and began to cry. Dende gently guided him to the ground. "It will turn out all right, Cargo," he murmured. "You'll see. Everything will be fine." He stroked the top of the boy's head with one hand. Cargo turned to him and buried his face in his robes.

Dende held him until his sobbing subsided. He did not realize until afterward that Cargo had fallen asleep in his embrace. Dende almost smiled. This was something they had done many times before when they were younger, one falling asleep while curled up against the other. His little brother was still inside there somewhere, hidden beneath the anger-ridden child that raged against the universe. He leaned down and pressed his cheek to Cargo's.

"I am glad to see that someone has found time for Cargo," came a soft voice from directly behind him. Dende jumped. Cargo shifted in his arms but blessedly remained asleep.

It was Muuri who had snuck up on him. "How is he, Dende?" he asked the youth.

"Um… he is tired, Muuri. And he is very upset," Dende replied.

Muuri looked at the bloody prints on the wall and pursed his lips. "I see."

"He wants very much to be able to protect our people," Dende suggested. "He is concerned that this will happen again, and that when it does, there will be no one to stand between us and it."

The elder's lips twitched. "He has been most emphatic about that. He desires training."

"Yes, Muuri."

To Dende's surprise, Muuri sat down beside them and placed a hand on Cargo's arm. He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he spoke with a heavy heart. "I have spoken with the village elders, and the majority believe his insanity will be cured with the realization that his desires will not bring him happiness."

"Insanity?"

"Many believe that our time on Earth has done him harm. His proximity to the outsiders has influenced him negatively. They use Piccolo as an example of what the future holds for him."

Dende nearly leaped to his feet, only remembering that he held his brother at the very last moment. He stilled with effort. "But he only wants to help!" he cried.

"I know," said Muuri. "I know. I am only telling you this because you are closest to him out of all our brethren. You may see things the others will not. You do need to know something about him, though, Dende."

The boy took in his elder's solemn expression and nodded. This was no mere probe for information. This was serious. Not that he had doubted the gravity of the situation before, but now it was very clear to him that Muuri had not come to them just to be sociable. There was some other factor involved.

"Dende, before we were wished to Earth, Cargo displayed the beginnings of an aura as he searched for you. I saw this myself. The last one to manifest such power was Nail. Though the other elders may not agree with me, I believe that our little brother has the potential to become a powerful warrior. I also believe that he needs training before he sustains injuries while attempting to teach himself."

Dende's jaw dropped.

Muuri smiled at the surprised youth. "Did you think I would not be receptive to the needs of our brother?" he asked him. "I am not unaware of what has been happening. Cargo will need our help and our understanding if he is to recover from the trauma he has suffered. The best that can be done now is to give him an outlet for his grief. If that outlet must be through violence, it is better that he channel it in a way that will not bring harm to our people or to himself." He gave a pointed glance to the bloody wall. "I will arrange for someone to teach him how to harness the _ki_ he possesses."

"He is only a child!" Dende exclaimed.

"As are you," the elder replied. "Yet you are the greatest healer among our brethren. Power does not discriminate to whom it flows."

"His thoughts are dark and full of anger."

"And he can learn to put it aside. Have faith in our brother, Dende."

Dende was silent for a moment. Then he asked, "Why am I being told this?"

Muuri smiled again. "Because you are the one he cares most about. You are his light in the dark." His hand moved from Cargo's arm to Dende's shoulder. "You also bear a great burden."

Dende suddenly understood what the elder was telling him. "We will _both_ be receiving training, then," he stated.

Muuri nodded. "At first. As novices to the use of _ki_, you will both be instructed on its basic properties. During this, I would like you to keep an eye on him, Dende. Keep me informed on his progress. He is far more fragile than he will admit, and he needs you."

Cargo shifted in Dende's arms again, and Dende pulled him closer. Muuri stood up and moved away. "Within seven days, someone will come to you. Be prepared, child."

"Yes, Muuri."

"Do not forget what I have told you."

"I will not."

With that, the elder was gone. Dende sighed. "You, brother," he said softly, glancing down at the other boy, "are going to drag me into many things that I don't want to be a part of, aren't you?"

As if in response, Cargo smiled in his sleep.

* * *

I'm a classic DBZ ficker? Thank you!

Again, this story will probably be updated slowly. I apologize in advance. If you would like to keep track of it, you can favorite it. (I do also greatly appreciate reviews. A flattered writer is a faster writer.) Also, feel free to comment on any choppiness in the story. That can be a flaw of mine.

Thanks for reading. 'Til next time!

~Dreamwraith


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